Yes, that's the planYou descend your GRAND STAIRCASE as you crack the BLADEWHIP on the air, following the musical cues

Choire: ♪ I ▲M THE CRE▲TOR OF ▲LL P▲IN ▲ND SORROW ♫Choire: ♪ I'M OUT TO GET YOUR SOUL ♫Choire: ♪ ▲ND ONCE YOU SEE ME ▲LL HOPE IS DE▲D ♫Choire: ♪ FOR ▲LL YOUR DRE▲MS THERE'S NO TOMORROW ♫

You don't need to extend your PSIIONIC POWERS to know where your preys are hidingYou have been in the job long enough to predict their hiding spots without the need of PSYCHIC POWERSIt would be no fun to cut the chase thoughYou do a quick dance just in front of the pedestal you descended from a moment earlierSuddenly, your PSIIONIC POWERS extend the length of your whip and you shoot it foreward, grabbing onto a PROP SPIRE AND PULLINGIt dislodges and reveals a terrified BRONZEBLOOD TROLL, who immediately runs for cover further along the stageYou laugh maniacally as the audience cheers

You call for the audience to join you, hundreds of hands shoot up at onceYou extend your psiionics to the floor of the entertainment tent and pick a troll at randomYou tug at their hand and invite them on stage with youThe troll is an indigoblood girl, young, probably around 6 sweepsShe is carrying a cheap replica of your bladed whip, but you think it will be enough

Choire: ♪ DR▲IN ▲LL THE BLOOD ▲ND GIVE THE KIDS ▲ SHOW ♫Choire: ♪ YOU C▲N S▲Y A PR▲YER IF YOU NEED TO ♫

You don't have any communication device on you, so you have no way of knowing you are currently getting trolledYour psiionic powers work by moving matter or altering it's state to a degree. You can also "feel" the presence of objects when you let your power "fall" and flow among the terrainYou can't, however, read mindsAnd even if you could, you would not waste precious effort on desperate trolls

You take your new ally's hands in yours and feel your power envelop her frail bodyWhen she breaks apart you can move her like a puppetYou show off your dear puppet to the audience by making her do an acrobatic fucking pirouette, much to the thrill of the audience

She wants to sing of her own accord, and you let herHer voice isn't half bad

I've been dreaming about youIn a pool of your own bloodThe scent of your insidesThe perfect perfume

You are pretty sure this might be one of your songs from a previous performance, truly this is flattering

Your psiionic assistant trolls use their power to spin the props around you like a hurricaineThis forces the terrified prey to come forwardYour charge moves the whip of her own accord, and you help her alongShe proves to be quite skilled at this, maybe she has been practisingWhen all is done and over, you lower your control over her and she bows to the audienceThe spell is broken and the entertainment tent is filled with cheers, some trolls throw plant gonads onto the stageYou bow deeply and so does your chargeAfter finishing the show you depart back to your respiteblock, while your assistants take care of the cleanupYou admire the new blood stains on your overskirtWonderful

You have had...troubles with...fans stealing your possessions, so your respiteblock is seemingly as plain as it can beThere is a recuperacoon halfly filled with dry sopor slime and a MULTIHOLDERFURNITUREPIECE that is falling to piecesThat is because this is not your real respiteblockDespite being a diva, you don't get the respect you deserve!You use your psiionics to feel along the wall for the stairs orbweaverspidermum made for youYou climb along them to your REAL RESPITEBLOCKIt is hidden atop a ledge that serves as the fake UPPERLIMIT to your fake respiteblockYou have a magnificient recuperacoon filled with top grade soporslime, a bribe from KalyanIt is shielded from view by curtains made of yellow tulleYour orbweaverspidermum made them so they're specialYour stuff is neatly piled on shelves on the far side wall. You also keep your trophies there: a few skulls, two femurs, other assorted bones...Then there's your mirrorYou have a special peg to hang your triangle pendant right next to the mirrorThen theres your FASHIONHOLDER, where you keep outfits given to you by admirers

She's always been so frail, despite her blood statusYou cannot help the shudder when pity fills your bodyBack when you were together, she used to devote to her duty and her alliesYou know she would die for the Royal-V if it were neededShe is really pretty and your blood colours complemented each other beautifully despite being so differentPlus her skin was so soft and she smelled so goodYou heard she's changed thoughShe apparently broke things off with her moirail and has been hanging out with another blueblood trollShe's usually high off her wits tooYou stare wistfully at your phone

You know she's probably in a sopor induced coma but you can't help but worryYou didnt exactly part on the best of terms, so visiting her is out of the questionMaybe you could visit her new Moirail and ask him?You've heard he's one weird cookie though...

===> Descend your makeshift ladderYou run to the main theatre stage still in your ochre fluffy slippersYou assitants have been helpful and organized the corpses of your victims in neat little roadsYou captchalogue them and break in a run towards the palaceKalyan will have to wait